“That’s all anyone wants from anyone else; not love itself but the knowledge that love is there. Like new batteries in the flashlight in the emergency kit in the hall closet.”— Jonathan Safran Foer, goodreads.com
“Well, let it pass; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.”— F. Scott Fitzgerald, goodreads.com
“In general, people are not drawn to perfection in others. People are drawn to shared interests, shared problems, and an individual’s life energy. Humans connect with humans. Hiding one’s humanity and trying to project an image of perfection makes a person vague, slippery, lifeless, and uninteresting”— Robert Glover, goodreads.com
“I’m going to find a way to be happy, and I’d really love to be happy with you, but if I can’t be happy with you, then I’ll find a way to be happy without you.”— Randy Pausch, goodreads.com
“Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.”— Matt Groening, quotationspage.com
“I will love you as a thief loves a gallery and as a crow loves a murder, as a cloud loves bats and as a range loves braes. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong.”— Lemony Snicket, goodreads.com
“Is there some truth that is revealed when lovers argue? No. Arguing is to a relationship what masturbation is to sex.”— Simon Critchley, amazon.com
“What are you thinking? How are you feeling? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do?”— Gillian Flynn, Amy Dunne, amazon.com
“It even crossed his mind, as he stood idly waiting, his hand resting on the wallpaper books, that maybe he ought to get a rifle. Why not? His father had taken him hunting as a boy; the memory rose in his mind with wonderful vividness— creeks, trees, sunlight, squirrels scampering along high, leafy b…”— John Gardner, amazon.com
“When they had fights about Ellen's playing around— a phrase that, inexplicably, filled him with rage— it always seemed later that it was not her infidelity that brought on the fights, nor his guilt at his own unconfessed infidelity, but the gin they'd drunk. It had seemed not in the real world, as r…”— John Gardner, amazon.com